


You're My Person (Peter Parker one shot)

by revengingbarnes



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Mentions of Blood, One Shot, Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, imagine, injured peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 13:11:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16975206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/revengingbarnes/pseuds/revengingbarnes
Summary: Injured badly after a battle, Peter stumbles through the window of the only person he wants to be with.





	You're My Person (Peter Parker one shot)

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote this for @thedevilwearsvibranium ‘s 2k writing challenge on Tumblr! My prompt is bold in the fic. Tell me what y’all think!

It’s hard to swing around the city when all you want to do is lay down and not move a muscle, in hopes that the pain might go away. The wind that normally caressed his skin and made him feel alive felt like sharp ice crystals pricking him now. Every movement made him groan, every web shot from his wrists made his insides clench with pain. At one point, it became too unbearable and he had to physically stop in a small alleyway to try and relax his muscles and get rid of some of the pain. It didn’t work.

He limped the rest of the way, breathing hard under his mask. He couldn’t even explain the amount of relief he felt when he caught sight of the familiar, tall red brick building he had been yearning to get to ever since he had crashed into the lake.

The suit had done more than enough, heating him up and keeping him alive and mobile till he got there, but he still had to do a little bit more if he was going to get to the window he had his sights on. The five floors in his way seemed to stretch out to an impossible distance, and his shoulder joint was throbbing painfully. Even though he had gone up there thousands of times before with no difficulty at all, right now it was seemed so  _far_. Peter took a deep breath, nearly crying at the unbearable pain in his arms, before he slowly started crawling up the wall.

It was worse than he thought it would be.

Every time he would move his limbs to crawl along the wall, he would feel a painful tug where the bullet was lodged in his shoulder. It was a whole lot of groaning, crying and whimpering later that his hands finally caught onto the sill, one hand curling to a fist to lightly bang on it. He had to be quiet or he’d wake someone up. Someone other than the one person he was looking for.

Of course, she knew he could be the only person who would show up at her  _window_ of all places, at 3 in the morning. She slid the glass pane up in one quick sweep to make minimal noise, and Peter climbed in to fall on her floor with a thud. He rolled onto his back, breathing hard.

“Peter?” He heard shuffling and a click, and Y/N’s lamp lit up, the light mellow but enough to let them properly see around the room. Peter didn’t move. Frankly, he didn’t think he could. He heard her shocked gasp as she caught the very discreet blood stain on his shoulder, unnoticeable from afar because of the red of his suit. Before he knew it, she was tugging at his mask, pulling it off completely when he lifted his head. Her hands immediately flew up to clamp her mouth in shock, her big doe-like like eyes peering down at his face. He knew it was just as bruised and bloodied like the rest of him.

“Hey, I don’t look  _that_ bad.” He joked weakly, making her snap out from her shocked trance like state.

“You idiot.” She hissed. “What the fuck did you get yourself into?” She was pulling at his shoulders, trying to get him to sit up. Peter hissed at the pressure, and she immediately retracted her hands, looking like a deer in headlights that had done something wrong.

Dragging and stumbling, with a little help from Y/N, Peter finally flopped down on her bed. Even this minor effort caused him to lose his breath, sweating profusely.

“Peter.” He heard the panic in her voice. Given the hypersensitivity of his shoulder, he immediately felt it when her hand brushed over the area, fingertips coming back bloody. “This is a bullet wound. We need to get you to a hospital-”

“No hospital.” He croaked. “We’re minors. They’ll call May.”

“No they won’t. We’ll give them Mr. Stark’s number.”

Peter let out a breath. “I kind of promised Mr. Stark that I wouldn’t get into things bigger than myself.”

He heard her groan and move from the bed, reaching under it for her modest first aid kit.

“This is going to do  _nothing_ for a bullet wound.” She was grumbling. Peter felt bad for the panic in her voice, knowing he had caused it. He felt her push the black spider on his chest, and the material covering his body loosened. With some struggle, she managed to get the suit off him. Peter wanted to help, really. But he felt like his limbs weighed a thousand pounds. His eyelids were drooping. With the last of his energy, he dug his fingers into his shoulder, hearing Y/N’s intake of breath at the action. Grunting, he pulled the metal bullet out, sighing in relief as the foreign object left his body. He thanked his luck that the bullet hadn’t split into fragments. Then, things would have gotten really complicated. He could already feel the flesh start to knit itself together, thanks to his gifted abilities.

“Just bandage it.” He mumbled, feeling sleepy. “It’ll heal itself.”

Y/N set to work then, her focus primarily on stopping the bleeding shoulder. Peter felt his muscles slowly but surely uncurl and untwist under her gentle hands.

“I don’t know how to treat bullet wounds.” She spoke up. “I’m just a kid, Pete. Why’d you come here when I can’t do anything for you?”

“Because  **you’re my person**.” Peter’s head lolled to the side to catch her eye. Her movements slowed at his words, the worry in her eyes softening. He sent her a small smile which she returned, breaking her gaze to focus on the work at hand. The sleep that was a long time coming finally consumed Peter, pulling him under the cloud of unconsciousness.

……………

The first sensation Peter experienced when he next came to consciousness was a tingling across his scalp as fingers ran through his hair. Slightly screwing his eyes shut, he then opened them, his gaze meeting big, soft ones.

“Hey.” Y/N whispered.

The lamp that had previously casted a dim yellow light across the room was turned off. Instead, little rays of morning light from the window illuminated the mostly dark room. Peter could make out Y/N’s relaxed features despite the little light, and he let his eyes trace them slowly. He immediately noticed the bags under her eyes, the tiredness of her lax features. He knew instantly that she hadn’t slept at all.

It was then that he noticed how pliant he felt, how relaxed. His body was humming quietly and he suddenly became aware of the tight bandages around his shoulder. He glanced down to see the white against his bare torso. Here and there, little bruises and cuts had been cleaned. He smiled, heart lurching at the thought of Y/N picking even the smallest of wounds and fixing them. He had been covered in them. It must have taken her so long.

“How’re you feeling?” His eyes lifted up to hers again at the sound, smiling. He felt his head resting on her lap, her face upside down above him, hair falling to the side and slightly tickling his neck.

“Much better.” He rasped out, smiling. She sighed, presumably in relief, and smiled back at him. Peter stayed as he was, not wanting to give up the warmth in his body, the comfort he felt throughout. Y/N continued to card her fingers through his hair, and Peter hoped she wouldn’t stop anytime soon.

“You didn’t have to look over every wound.” He voiced. “The shoulder was the real problem. The rest would have healed on their own. Did you even sleep?”

She shrugged, which Peter knew meant no, she hadn’t slept. He slightly frowned at her, but he couldn’t bring himself to be mad when her fingertips brushed over his face, tracing his cheekbones and jaw. Lightly running over the little cut on his jaw, the bruise on his cheek and the purple bruise under his eye.

“I wanted to.” She said, finally.

“Why?” The light was getting brighter, and Peter knew that in a while, the Sun would completely rise.

“Because  **you’re _my_ person**.” She replied softly, not letting him reply before leaning over and connecting their lips upside down. She captured his bottom lip as he did the same to hers, sighing peacefully at the feeling. Her hand held his jaw so delicately, Peter almost wouldn’t have felt it if his skin hadn’t tingled at the contact.

He never would have imagined that less than six hours after the roughest fight of his life, he would feel so content and so happy. He wished he could stay like this forever, her soft lips on his and hair tickling his face as she kissed him again and again.


End file.
